


The Girl That Was Never Meant to Be

by a_soggy_uncrustable



Series: Harry Potter Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, F/M, Original Character(s), Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_soggy_uncrustable/pseuds/a_soggy_uncrustable
Summary: Leola Nenomae, the girl who took her first breath on the outside of the womb with a silver blade held against her throat. Although she was supposed to be killed the day she was born, destiny seemed to have other plans. Now eleven years old with a fog ridden memory of her past, Leola must navigate an entirely new world with the help of a boy with cracked glasses that survived the impossible, a redhead whose loyalty seemed stronger than diamonds, and a girl whose mind held entire libraries of knowledge.First Book in Series: The Philosophers Stone
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Harry Potter Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146548
Kudos: 1





	1. -Prologue-

**Author's Note:**

> If you are curious as to what I imagined this character to look like, please feel free to visit the link provided below! I created a few messily drawn sketches of Leola Nenomae and hope that it clarifies the image you may have begun to piece together in your head <3
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/1021518199-the-girl-that-was-never-meant-to-be-harry-potter

“‘You, and  _ you alone _ , will have the stars as no one else has them...In one of the stars I shall be  _ living _ . In one of them I shall be  _ laughing _ . And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look up into the darkened night sky...You,  _ only you _ , will have stars that can laugh.’”

Small form illuminated by the lemon glow of the reading lamp beside her, the young girl completely embodies that of an actor beneath the warmth of a spotlight, stage set for her captivating performance as she recites the last lines of the story like she has done many times before

“‘And when your sorrow is comforted, for time soothes all sorrows, you will be content that you have known me…You will  _ always _ be my friend.’”

With eyes as silver as the almost pearlescent sheen of a pigeons feathers, the child lifts her head to meet her audiences gaze, lips shifting the entirety of her face to accentuate the smile that grows there

“I did what you said, gran-” her voice has changed significantly when she speaks again, softer and almost timid in nature as she continues, “-I practiced the words just like you told me to. I didn’t muck up a single one this time!”

Silence is the only response the young girl receives, but this strangely leaves her completely unfazed. You see, Grandmother has yet to utter a single sound since the year before last, wrinkled olive colored skin sunken into the empty spaces of her skull as she vacantly stares off into a world the young girl could never hope to see. With hands carved from frigid marble and eyes resembling the mist across a storming ocean, you’d think the ancient looking woman was dead if it weren’t for the occasional exhale of lemon scented breath during times in which the creaking of the rustic home ceased to fill the dust filled air. Sitting cross-legged in front of her grandmother, the young girl turns to follow her empty gaze, storm colored eyes landing upon the Rococo style paintings that messily littered the tangerine wall before her. She wonders quietly if these small snapshots were where her grandmother was, if her mind had melded into the pastels in an attempt to escape her own deteriorating body

“Have you finished your story, Lee?”

Tilting her body until a mass of wiry black hair pops into view from behind the mahogany rocking chair her grandmother sat in, Leola smiles, sharp features once again softened by the kindness she exudes through that one simple action

“Just about, Mrs. Figg-” she responds politely, watching as a honey-skinned woman enters the small living room, “-do you need to look after Gran?”

“Well-” Mrs. Figg slowly pulls out an envelope from the pocket of the lavender colored cardigan wrapped around her torso, “-I was actually wondering if you could open this up and read it to me…”

Hopping up from her spot on the greying oriental rug beneath her, Leola bids her grandmother a silent farewell before heading over to the tan freckled woman, noting the way her eyes seem to hint at amusement as she watches the young girl. Pale hands grasp gently at the wax-sealed letter, fingers brushing ever so gently against the yellow bruising of the paper as she pops open the top flap to reveal an ivory colored note tucked neatly inside

“Go on, dearie-” Mrs. Figg urges softly, moving to stand beside the young girl to peer down over her shoulder, “-read it out loud.”

Briefly glancing up to meet the almost anxious eyes of her grandmothers caretaker, Leola laughs lightly before finally pulling out the smooth parchment, thumb resting against crease to keep the folded piece of paper open as she reads

“Dear Miss Leola Nenomae,” she begins slowly, iron gaze fixed upon the beautiful swirls of the cursive writing as she continues, “We are very pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to attend the Hogwarts School of...Witchcraft and Wizardry?” 

These words, although familiar to her, seemed to catch her completely off guard. Up until that point, she had painted a sophisticated image in her mind only for it to be ruined by the almost cartoonish vision of an emerald colored hag with a nose that curved so far inwards that it could prod the bow of her paper thin lips. A ghastly cackle tinged with poison echoes in her ear. Not knowing it was happening, too distracted by the strange imagery she was creating in an effort to make sense of the confusing letter as she continues to read, Leola scrunches up her freckled nose slightly

“Something the matter?” Mrs. Figg questions through a small chuckle, noticing the way the young girls face contorts beneath the lemon lights above, “I thought you’d be more excited, Lee!” 

“Excited?” 

Silver eyes scanning over the words once more, paper moving between fingers as she frantically searches for anything in its contents that would clarify what was going on, Leola scoffs lightly

“There’s nothing to be  _ excited  _ about, Mrs. Figg, this is obviously a joke...”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“I mean-” Leola continues, her smile returning only for it to be noticeably less bright than before, “-’Witchcraft and Wizardry’? Come on! That’s like saying Santa Claus is real”

“Who told you that Santa wasn’t real?” 

The almost genuine shock that overtakes the older woman's sun spot ridden face causes Leola to laugh lightly, her sharp features regaining its usual radiance. 

“I saw Gran stocking the socks a few years back”

“Well, Santa may not be real-” Mrs. Figg rolls her eyes playfully before leading the young girl to the dining room table, sitting her down onto one of the lump filled chairs before continuing with a smirk, “-but witchcraft  _ is _ , whether you believe it or not, Lee”

“What do you mean?”

“I  _ mean- _ ” the old woman takes this beat of silence to sit down across from the girl, reaching over to gently hold her hands, “-that you have magic flowing through these tiny fingers of yours.”

There's a deafening silence that overtakes the still morning air, Mrs. Figg slowly turning the young girl's hands until her palms face the sky, Leola seemingly transfixed on the porcelain skin of her limbs as she mulls over the woman's words.

“How do you know?” the child asks hesitantly, almost as if still afraid that this was all a part of some strange prank. Mrs. Figg smiles, beautiful emerald eyes meeting Leola’s gaze for a moment before she answers

“I just do, dear-” her somewhat vague reply causes the girls coal black eyebrows to furrow slightly, the older woman quick to continue, “-and I know that, deep down...you know it too”

“That’s not true!” Leola’s voice holds an almost defensive tone, mind racing as memories begin to push themselves to the forefront of her thoughts. She tries to hide the guilt that wells up inside of her, however Mrs. Figg is too clever for the young girl, able to clock the way Leola’s lips turn down slightly into a frown

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” the older woman questions, however it is obvious to her that the young girl has, continuing through a small smirk, “Made things move without touching them...Perhaps caused a few lights to flicker whenever you were afraid?”

“Those were all coincidences, Mrs. Figg, nothing more-”

“Coincidences? You’re young, but I know you aren’t stupid...” She echoes through a chuckle, “You have powers, Lee, abilities waiting to be nurtured,-”

Mrs. Figg pulls out the letter and flattens it down onto the table for the girl to see, bony fingers tapping at the cursive title across the very top of the yellowing parchment

“-magic that  _ this school _ can show you how to use.”

Another long moment of silence fills the empty spaces between the pair as they stare down at the invitation. Leola, silver gaze glancing up briefly to study Mrs. Figg's soft features, she finds a strange confidence set like stone in the woman's pine colored eyes.

“You’re...being serious, aren’t you?” Leola finally asks, meek whisper barely heard over the faint beeping of her grandmothers heart monitor 

Mrs. Figg nods gently, salt and pepper hair falling in thin strands in front of her face. It’s through this miniscule action that Leola realizes that she was telling the truth, the quiet reply far louder than any other defense she could use. Opening up her pale hands so that she stares down at the engraved flesh of her palms once more, Leola finds herself scoffing lightly, closing her fingers until two fists rest upon the oak table beneath her. It was as if, in that exact moment, she could feel it...The impossibly soft tingle of magic as it flowed through her

“...I believe you…”


	2. -The Start of A New Life-

Beneath an abalone colored sky, champagne tinted clouds swirling across the horizon like clumsy paint strokes, Leola stands silently before a splintered door hanging upon tangerine rusted hinges. The young girl swallows down a nervous gulp of air before resting the palm of her hand on the metal knob just below her shoulder. She notes the way her fingernails roughly brush past shards of peeling paint when she finally turns it, specks fluttering in swarms like ash to the cracked concrete below her mud covered chucks as she slowly swings the heavy slab of wood open. It's as if Leola had opened a box, a thick wall of noise escaping the confines of the room to bombard her in all of it’s must filled glory. Bracing herself slightly, hands grasping at the tattered sling of her backpack, she steps inside and lets the door close behind her with a chilling finality. 

“Hagrid, just find Hagrid and you’ll be fine” Leola whispers the name to herself, repeating the funny sounding word just as Mrs.Figg had done before she had left the young girl to fend for herself, “...If I only knew who the hell this Hagrid guy is.”

Small form hidden beneath the shadows of the dimly lit bar, the smell of strange concoctions and deafening chatter engulfing her, she tries her best to remember exactly what she had been told by her grandmother's caretaker. Though her mind is crowded with nervous ramblings and old-timey tunes, she is able to recall a somewhat unbelievably vague description Mrs.Figg had hastily provided. Leola was supposed to look for a tall, bearded man,with dark eyes. 

“Yeah, like that’ll be easy to spot…” the young girl sighs quietly to herself, bitter words said through clenched teeth as she shuffles forward slowly to take a better look at the room

Much to her surprise, expecting patrons to be more spread about, mingling with each other over drinks and stale pub grub, Leola finds that a crowd has gathered near the rotting wood bar near the back. About ten people in all, dressed in strange cloaks and babbling through contented smiles directed towards a pair of people seated upon a couple of stools in the middle of the gleeful group. This surprise she feels, however, is quickly replaced by disappointment. Quickly counting, she realizes there is about 4 different men in that gabbering crowd that perfectly fit Mrs.Figgs murky description

“Well, here goes nothing”

Rolling back her shoulders, ivory hands moving to tighten the band holding back her tar colored hair through a quick yank of a couple thick handfuls of the wiry strands, Leola builds up enough false confidence to make her way over to the large group. Chucks taking her the distance across the honey washed pub, Leola finds herself listening in to the voices as they slowly become clearer with every step she takes

“It’s such an honor to meet you-” she hears one of the taller men state proudly, watching as he thrusts his hand towards the pair she had noticed before, “-it's really such an incredible honor, Mr. Potter!”

Now on the outskirts of the crowd, standing awkwardly behind a pair of older women practically dancing in their spots out of sheer excitement, Leola tries her hardest to will herself forward using her small form to her advantage. Crouching down to avoid swinging hands and sharp elbows, she’s finally beside her first suspect.

“Excuse me, sir”

Her voice is drowned out by the others, the bearded man she was trying to gain the attention of laughing at something she couldn’t see and staring at people she didn’t know.

“Excuse me, sir-” she is finally able to get the man’s focus, the light tug at the smooth fabric of his cloak that accompanied her words enough to earn a glance, “-I was wondering if you could give me your name?”

“Pardon?” it’s obvious to the young girl that he was only half listening to her, dark eyes shifting back and forth from her small form to the parting in the crowd ahead of him

“I wanted to know what your name was-”

“What-?”

“Sir, is your name Hagrid?” she finally blurts, frustration evident in her sharp features

“Hagrid?” it’s with this unfamiliar name that the man finally sets his gaze onto the girl, bush like brows furrowing across his forehead as he leans down slightly to meet her smaller form, “You’re looking for Hagrid?”

“Are you him?” she questions, earning a light chuckle that is accompanied by a quick shake of the head

“The bloke you’re looking for is over there-” the man points a wrinkled finger towards the chaotic grouping of people in front of the pair, adding a nod in the direction of a couple of forms she couldn’t really see through the mass of fabric, “-the big guy sitting next to Harry Potter”

“Which one is Harry Potter?” she asks the question with little to no thought only to find that she earns a dumbfounded look in response, the man's dark eyes staring down at her as if she had transformed into some grotesque creature. Opening his mouth only to close it again a few seconds later, much resembling a fish she had seen at an aquarium a while back, the bearded man is unable to produce any sound. Leola smiles awkwardly

“Harry Potter? Oh, of course!” she lets out a nervous laugh, fidgeting with her fingers as she tries to perform her way out of the uncomfortable situation, “I just got a little confused for a second, sorry, I know  _ exactly  _ who you’re talking about...the one sitting next to Hagrid. Yeah, that Harry Potter”

Before the man is able to say anything more to continue the awkward conversation, the girl is quick to turn on her heels to avoid it. Tightening her grip upon the bag slung over her shoulder, Leola finds that the crowd has somewhat died down in intensity, voices no longer overwhelming and maze of bodies barely touching one another as she moves freely through them. With this obstacle now gone, all she needed to do was find the man she had been looking for. Ash colored eyes scan the bar, searching for anything that could be of use to her. A voice luckily comes to her rescue

“E-Excuse me, y-young l-l-lady-”

Feeling a trembling hand lightly rest itself upon the edge of her shoulder, Leola able to see a pair of slender fingers hovering in the air as if afraid to touch any other part of her, she turns. There, standing somewhat curled up into himself, was a man even paler than her. Sickly looking and almost skeletal like, the man wore an amethyst colored turban that added an accent of color to his otherwise dull looking robes. 

“I-I-I-” the man has to take a moment to calm his stutter, Leola noticing the way his right eye twitches every so often, “-I overheard that y-y-you were looking f-for Hagrid”

Able to decipher his nervous ramblings, words barely able to connect through his chattering teeth, Leola smiles politely

“That’s right, sir...Do you know him?”

“F-Follow m-m-me”

Supposedly deciding it best to keep words to a minimum to avoid any further confusion, the pale man begins his brisk walk towards a rusted hallway, Leola at his heels as they both navigate their way through the parting crowds and beneath pillars of iron. When they turn the corner, the young girl is able to make out two figures just a few feet ahead of the pair, one vastly larger than the other

“H-Hagrid-” the shaking man called out through the dust filled air, earning a confused glance from the bigger figure that seemed to only grow bigger with every step the pair took, “I b-b-believe I have s-s-someone who’d l-l-like to s-s-peak with y-you”

Now, standing in front of the people that they had approached, Leola can’t help but slightly gape at the sight before her. Built like an African baobab with a thick head of hair that looked like it could possibly suffocate its host, a man she assumed must have been Hagrid stood wearing brown fabrics of every shade and possessed eyes as dark as the shell of a hercules beetle.

“Professor Quirrell!” The giant’s voice resembles a passing storm, thunderous tone enough to raise goosebumps upon Leola’s ivory skin, “What brings yah ter the Leaky Cauldron? Came ter meet Harry?”

When Hagrid says the name Leola had been hearing a lot about this evening, the young girl is finally turning her attention onto a boy standing next to the giant. With untidy dark hair and a pair of emerald eyes hidden beneath glasses held together by a clumsy tape job, the one she now knew to be Harry Potter shifts awkwardly from one beat up shoe to another, oversized flannel barely able to hang onto his somewhat scrawny body

“As w-w-wonderful it is to m-m-meet the f-famous P-P-Potter-” Professor Quirrell admits through what looks to be an almost painful smile before continuing quietly “-I was a-a-actually here to i-introduce you to M-Miss Nenomae. She tells m-m-me she’s b-been l-l-looking for you.”

Listening to his words, Leola noticed something interesting in what he said. He had called her by her last name, something he otherwise shouldn’t have known unless they had met before considering she distinctly remembers not even telling the Professor her first. It seems that Professor Quirrell understands the look on her face when he turns to meet her gaze, pale face surprisingly growing even paler than it was only a few seconds ago. Before either is able to confront this however, Hagrid is interrupting, large smile able to be seen through the coco colored whiskers below his nose

“Leola!” his exclamation catches the young girl by surprise, her silver eyes widening slightly at the happiness that makes its way across his face as he continues, “Well, just look achta. Grown like a weed, you have!”

“I’m sorry-” Leola began slowly, clearing her throat before continuing, “-have we met before?”

When she meets the giant's gaze, she sees a strange kindness, a type of benevolence that gives her a sort of comfort. This, however, hides an underlying disappointment. He seemed almost hurt at her words, something that confused Leola greatly

“S’pose yah wouldn’t remember since you were just a baby..” he explains through a sad looking smile, his charcoal colored eyes glistening beneath the dull lighting above the group as he continues, “Tiny little thing, you were. Loved when I played yah the flute, put yah right ter sleep, it did”

Noticing the way his words soften when he speaks, getting choked up at his own reminiscence, Hagrid is quick to turn his kind gaze towards the smaller boy beside him.

“Leola-” He smiles at the girl before gently coaxing the flannel clad kid until he’s stumbling onto the concrete in front of her, “-I’d like fer yah to meet Harry. Harry Potter.”

He states the boy's name proudly, syllables gliding out from his mouth as if it left his tongue covered in gold. Harry, however, doesn’t seem as interested in his own name. Leola chuckles lightly at the sight, thankful that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t quite understand the whole picture. Offering her hand, ivory skin seemingly glowing beneath the buttercup lamps above, she smiles kindly

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry Potter.” The young girl's voice is like honey as she speaks, soft gaze captivating Harry as she continues, “My name’s Leola Nenomae.”

“Lola Nomae?”

“Leola Nenomae” she enunciates, teasing the boy slightly through a small chuckle

“Leola Nenomae-” he echoes clumsily with a smile, calloused hands a stark contrast when compared to her more tender touch, “-I’ll try hard to remember that.”

“Well, you’ll have the time to practice considerin’ you two’ll be attendin’ the same school and all.”

“I-I-I shall be there a-a-as well”

Leola had almost forgotten the Professor was even there, although she couldn’t help but notice the shaking breath he let out every once and awhile. Hagrid laughs jovially in response, slapping massive hands upon the children's shoulders, the pair wincing slightly at the sudden force

“Ah, of course!” he announces, motioning towards the shivering man smiling awkwardly, “Kids, the Professor here teaches at Hogwarts. I expect the two of yah will be learnin’ great things from ‘im!”

“What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?” Harry questions, innocent curiosity making the young girl beside him smile slightly at the sight

“D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,” muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he’d rather not think about it. “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-PPotter?” He laughed nervously. 

“I guess-?”

“You’ll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” He looked terrified at the very thought, the group finding themselves somewhat uncomfortable as they watch the twitching man try his hardest to compose himself. Hagrid, glancing at the watch twisted around the expose skin of his wrist, almost sighs in relief at the time he sees. Clamping his hands back down onto the kids on either side of him, he smiles politely

“Well, we best be off! Thanks fer helpin’ Leola here find ‘er way. I’ll look after ‘er now, Professor.”

“N-No p-p-problem at all.” the man seems almost excited to finally be able to leave the group, turning around to walk away before glancing back once more towards the pair of children staring at him, “Goodbye ch-ch-children, see you in s-school”

He’s gone. As if through the blink of an eye, the shaking man disappears within the crowded bar, dull lighting making it hard to distinguish anyone from anybody. Leola hated to admit it, but she was somewhat relieved to not be near him anymore. It was like she could finally breathe properly again. Harry seemed to feel the same way, emerald eyes unable to hide the relief he feels when they meet gazes for a moment

“Is he always that nervous?” Harry questions Hagrid, having to tilt his head up almost 90 full degrees to speak to him

“Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience...They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o’ trouble with a hag. Never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject”

Harry and Leola find themselves sharing another confused look, each of their minds swimming as they take in the information. First magic, now vampires and hags? Leola was still having trouble accepting that this wasn’t a dream, however it seemed that with every hour that passed, the fight to convince herself that this was real became increasingly difficult.

“Well that sounds...awful” Harry comments somewhat absentmindedly to which Leola nods in agreement, “Should he really be teaching?”

“No need to worry ‘bout the Professor, kids-” Hagrid dismisses them with a wave of a massive gloved hand, turning away from the pair to begin his walk towards what looked to be an exit, “-He’ll teach yah some good things, just be prepared to suffer through that stutter of his...where’s me umbrella?”

“Is it pink?” Leola questions with a small smile, Harry finding himself charmed by the sweetness it held. 

“How’d yah know that?”

Still walking behind the giant, the group making their way out into a small courtyard, Leola yanks out a blush colored umbrella from a massive fur covered pocket sewn into the bottom of the man's long coat. Harry laughs lightly

“Here!” she hands the umbrella to Hagrid just as the group stops in front of a massive brick wall, motioning to the man's coat with her hand as she continues, “You must have forgotten to look in your back pockets.”  
“Thanks, Leola-'' Hagrid praises her softly, using one of his gloved hands to ruffle her tar black hair as if it came completely natural to him, “-i’m always forgettin’ this coat even has back pockets. Now, stand back, you two.”

Instantly obeying the giant, the pair moving in sync to stand off to the side, Harry and Leola watch curiously as Hagrid begins to study the rough bricks before him. He was counting, muttering numbers to himself as his coal colored eyes moved from one chipped rock to another. Raising his rose umbrella up, he uses the plastic tip of it to tap the wall three times. 

“Do you think it's a door?” Leola whispers to the boy standing beside her, both staring in anticipation as Hagrid lets his umbrella rest at his side

“Maybe...” Harry responds quietly, a small smile pulling at his lips, “He could be knocking-?”

Just then, a low rumble fills the grey washed air around the pair, each child focusing their gazes onto the brick wall itself. It seemed as if the stones were shivering, trembling against one another before twisting and turning in their spots. One hole, just big enough to fit an arm through. After a few seconds, the hole would double in size, now large enough for Leola to crawl through. A moment later, the wall has completely shifted to reveal an archway big enough for Hagrid to comfortably walk through. Sunlight poured out into the courtyard, lemon colored warmth like a spotlight on the giant as he turns to beckon the pair over.

“Welcome-” he announces through a grin, reveling in the amazement he found in the children's eyes, “-to Diagon Alley.”


	3. -Diagon Alley-

Cauldrons, cloaks, wands and funny sounding words inscribed upon swinging signs. Leola felt as if she had walked into an amusement park, old world forgotten and replaced by the beauty that was Diagon Alley. Everywhere she looked, she found her smile only growing larger, pearlescent eyes wide with excitement as she swept them over shining brooms, barrels filled with rolls of parchment, and clumsily stacked spell books. She continues to marvel at the sights surrounding her until she is suddenly knocked over by a group of laughing boys as they run past, their black robes billowing behind their bodies as they push through crowds. Harry is quick to come to her aid, tossing a furrow browed look towards the oblivious group as he gently helps the girl back onto her own feet

"Are you alright-?"

"This is incredible!"

Her voice catches the messy haired boy by surprise, his lime eyes widening as he watches Leola smile. She couldn't care less about being knocked over. In fact, she loved it. The soreness she felt in her knees from falling only solidified the fact that this place was real, that she was really standing there on the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.

"I mean-" she begins again, twirling around in a circle with her arms outstretched, "-those boys were wearing robes and carrying wands! And-And there's a bucket of bat wings over there! And-oh my god-that kid has an owl on his shoulder!"

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" Harry responds through a chuckle, unable to contain his own smile when watching the girl exude such genuine enthusiasm, the way her eyes light up as she speaks causing his heart to flutter slightly

"Harry-" his name comes out as a small scoff of disbelief, "-can you believe it? It's real! It's all real!"

"You two alright?"

The pair turn to face the source of the booming voice, eyes locking onto Hagrid's massive form as he navigates towards them through a sea of chattering children roaming about the square. He was smiling, his bright grin shining beneath his whiskers when he finally met up with them.

"Wonderful!"

"Fantastic, Hagrid!"

The giant laughs at this, pride welling up inside his massive body upon seeing how the two children he was rather fond were positively beaming with joy. Motioning with his head, scraggly chocolate colored beard shifting slightly with the movement, Hagrid directs their attention onto a building as white as the clouds that rolled across that afternoon sky

"Well, how about we get a move on, yeah?"

"Where are we going, Hagrid?" Harry questions, the pair having to jog slightly to be able to keep up with the giant as he moves through the crowds once more. It isn't until the group are all standing on marble steps that Hagrid finally announces what the two children were staring at

"This, kids, is Gringotts"

"It looks like a bank" Leola comments as the group approach the deep bronze doors before them

"That's 'cause it is"

When the doors swing open, silent upon hinges, the pair of children can't help but gape at the sight that greets them. Within a massive hall of white and gold marble, pillars of beautifully carved stone erect from the floor and curve upwards into the impossibly tall ceilings above. Between each pillar were mahogany counters larger than Hagrid, each counter accompanied by creatures too focused on their work to even glance at the group as they made their way further into the building

"Hagrid-" Harry whispers, emerald eyes carefully studying each and every creature he could as he continues, "-what are they?"

"They're goblins, Harry"

"Goblins?" Leola echoes, watching in awe as one of the goblins to her right begins weighing glowing stones in a brass scale

"Clever creatures, goblins..." Hagrid praises quietly, "Only things we wizard kind can trust to protect our earnin's."

Approaching one of the giant podiums near the back of the facility, Hagrid coughs lightly to earn the attention of the Goblin that occupied the space. Leola can't help but stare in amazement when her silver eyes catch a glimpse of the creature from over Hagrid's shoulder. With eyes as black as a night sky almost completely covered by its low brow bone and a mouth that seems permanently fixed into a frown beneath a nose as curved as a shepherd's crook, the goblin looks down at the bearded giant through moon shaped glasses.

"Mornin'!' Hagrid greets the creature kindly, Leola and Harry watching the interaction with curious intensity as he continues, "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"Do you have the child's key, sir?"

"'Course! Just give me a moment-"

Hagrid begins to shove his hands into pockets, twisting and turning them until they are hanging out of their designated holes. With every pocket he pulls out, a strange assortment of strange trinkets seems to follow. Leola and Harry chuckle quietly beside each other, sharing the now comfortable air that surrounded them both. After a few moments of rummaging, the giant is finally able to pull out a small golden key, the size of his pinky and rusted near the bow.

"Here it is!" Hagrid announces happily, handing over the tiny key and watching as the goblin inspects its shining surface closely.

"That seems to be in order-"

"Oh! An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore..." Hagrid says suddenly, handing over a crumpled piece of parchment over to the goblin who wrinkled his nose in response, "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

Upon hearing his words, pitch black eyes scanning the surface of the letter carefully, the goblin raises his brow bone in interest

"Very well" the goblin responds quietly, only to raise his voice again to call over another one of his kind from the corner of the room, "Griphook!"

Leola watches curiously as the goblin called Griphook comes striding over, about two full heads shorter than she. He was paler in skin tone and wore a beautiful velvet suit

"Yes, sir?"

"Take these three down to vaults 687 and 713"

Every word they spoke came out through an unintentional hiss, crooked nose moving upon their faces with every move their lips made. Leola is unable to continue studying the interesting creatures any further though since the group was now ordered to follow after the suited goblin. Weaving through marble pillars and passing by what seemed to be an impossibly large amount of goblins as they count golden coins from leather pouches, Griphook finally ushers them to a large brass door near the very back of the facility. Just like the doors they had entered in the beginning, these massive slabs of metal swing open with ease, utterly silent upon their hinges as they reveal an entirely new scene.

Expecting to see more cream colored marble, both Harry and Leola are slightly taken aback at the deep purple stone that greet them. It almost glowed with life, a galaxy of colors embedded into its jagged surface only visible near tangerine torch lights that illuminated the slim hallway. Making their way through the winding tunnel, the group abruptly stops when they come across a set of steel tracks engraving the cave-like floors beneath their feet. Griphook whistle, ear-piercing sound echoing for a moment before a large cart answers its call. Through a simple motion of his clawed hand, the goblin instructs for them to hop inside. Once settled, Hagrid clutching onto the metal rim of the wooden cart as if his life depended on it, the group is off

Left, Right, twist and turn. Time and space seemed to pass her by in a blur of orange and purple as the cart steered itself down the seemingly endless maze of vaults. Leola couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to properly see what was going on, cold air like needles against her skin as she laughed into the deafening wind that whipped past the group. Just as quickly as it had started though, it stops. Ride coming to a sudden halt upon its rusted tracks

"Vault 687" Griphook announces through a low grumble, Leola finding it hard to tell if he didn't like them or just normally presented himself this way. She didn't have time to find an answer however since Harry had hopped out of the cart and was now offering a hand to her. Accepting his help, clumsily clambering out of the teetering basket, Leola stands beside the boy and their guardian as they all stare up at a golden vault as tall as the ceiling.

"Key?" Griphook questions Hagrid through another grumble, the giant quick to yank the small piece of metal from his front pocket. Handing it over, they all watch in awe as the goblin opens up Harry's vault, amber slabs of metal shifting until the room inside is revealed to their curious eyes.

"Woah..." Leola gasps at the sight, silver eyes glancing over to watch Harry in amusement as he lets out a shaking breath in disbelief

Inside of the boys vault were mountains of coins, each stack of precious metal a beautiful gold, silver, or bronze color that shined with such brilliance it was difficult to look at the mounds straight on.

"This is...mine?" Harry asks quietly, almost as if afraid that if he were to talk too loud, it would all disappear. Hagrid laughs, dark eyes filled with joy as he claps a hand onto the boys shoulder

"It's all yours, Harry-" Hagrid reassures gently, shoving the small kid into the vault before following closely after, "-now start grabbin', we have things to do!"

As Hagrid and Leola help the young boy collect a few piles of coins, shoving the clicking pieces into small leather bags, Leola finds herself studying each piece carefully before tossing them into a pouch.

"Hagrid, what are these gold ones called?" She finally asks, holding up one of the golden pieces for him to see. He smiles, unable to hide the excitement he feels over being able to guide her through this confusing wizarding world

"The gold ones are called Galleons," he explains, taking a moment to hold up two of the other pieces of metal between large fingers, "The silver ones, Sickles. The brown ones, Knuts. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough."

"Sure doesn't sound like it" Harry jokes lightly, running a calloused hand through his tangled black hair. Leola agrees through a nod, smiling awkwardly as she tries to repeat the information in her mind. Hagrid laughs in amusement, waving them forward and out of the large vault

"You'll get the hang o' it soon enough," he then turns to Griphook who had been waiting patiently by the cart, dark eyes focused on their forms as they make their way over to him, "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please...is it possible to go a bit more slowly?"

"One speed only"

And so they went. They were going even deeper than before into the seemingly endless cavern, gathering even more speed with every turn they made much to Hagrid's discomfort. Upon seeing that they were coming up to some sort of underground ravine, Harry and Leola tries to lean over the side of the rattling cart to see what could be found at the bottom only to be pulled back by a trembling Hagrid who mumbled something about staying safely inside the wooden box. Just when it had felt they had just begun the ride though, much like the first time they were on the roller coaster like contraption, it stops. Vault seven hundred and thirteen.

"The children stay here-" Griphook instructs importantly, motioning for the jolly green giant to follow after him, "-stand back while I open the vault."

Leola and Harry, obeying the goblins order, watch curiously as the pair of adults approach the intricately designed brass doors of the vault. It's here that Leola notices that, unlike the other vaults they had seen, this one does not have a keyhole. This, however, does not seem to be a problem to the goblin, the small creature taking one of its uncomfortably long fingers to gently stroke one of the golden engravings near the center. The metal seems to melt away at his touch

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tries that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped there" he explains, glancing at each human as if a warning

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asks, morbid curiously getting the best of him. A rather nasty grin makes its way across the creatures pale face

"About once every ten years."

"With that kind of security-" Leola whispers to the boy beside her, light eyes searching the darkness of the now open vault, "-there must be something really important in there."

"What do you think it could be?"

"I'm not sure..." Leola answers honestly, watching as Griphook and Hagrid step inside, their forms momentarily disappearing in the shadows, "Maybe something priceless? Like an artifact or, I don't know, the Holy Grail."

"The Holy Grail?" Harry chuckles

"Well, what do _you_ think it is, Potter?"

"Maybe its-" her voice trails off upon seeing Hagrid emerge from the vault, carrying something tiny in his gloved hands, "-a grubby paper bag?"

The pair of children find themselves scrunching up their noses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as they watch the giant approach them. No bigger than the size of his palm was a little brown package that held auburn freckles and was tied together with a wax covered string.

"Hagrid-?"

Harry isn't able to even finish saying the last syllable of the giants name before said giant is interrupting him, clambering into the teetering cart with a groan

"No questions, you two." he warns them gently, shoving the small package into one of his front pockets, "Official Hogwarts business, _real_ secret. 'Fraid I can't explain any further."

"But, Hagrid-"

"No more talking...I think I'm gonna be sick."


	4. -The Wand Chooses the Wizard-

“You really didn’t need to do that-”

“I told you already, Lola-”

“Leola” she corrects with a laugh, earning an embarrassed smile from the boy before he continues

“I’ve already told you,  _ Leola _ , it was no problem. I wanted to do it.”

Leola nudges him lightly with her elbow, the pair walking side by side down the cobblestone street towards a shop Hagrid instructed them to visit while he got them surprises. 

“Harry, buying all of my school supplies?” she argues through a scoff of disbelief, hands running through her thick black hair as she meets his emerald gaze, “I know you have money, but there’s no need to be so eager to spend it all”

“I mean, I suppose...” there's a slight hesitation in his voice when he speaks to her, the pair slowing their pace as he musters up the courage to talk again, “It’s just that...I’ve never had money before, or  _ friends  _ for that matter. I guess I just got a little excited.”

“It’s alright to get excited, Harry” she begins with a reassuring smile, “Just stop paying for my stuff, alright? You gotta  _ save _ !”

“Save for what exactly?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Harry laughs, the pair sharing the comfortable air surrounding them as they continue their walk towards a brown colored shop near the end of the street, “Maybe you could save up for one of those gold cauldrons we saw earlier”

“Why would I get that?”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous, how could you  _ not  _ buy it?” Leola jokingly argues, gently grabbing the boy's hand in her own before tugging him along the rest of the way, “Now, let's go get our wands!”

Using their short forms to their advantage, a blur of midnight black as they weave in and out through the growing crowds of noisy families, the pair finally make it to the shop Hagrid had pointed out to them shortly before leaving to buy other items. Standing before it, they notice the way the golden paint peels at the rotted wood panels across the front of the building, swirling letters leading to an image of a beautifully crafted wand near the edge as it rests upon a purple satin pillow. Leola could tell this place was stunning in its prime

“Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” Harry reads out, squinting through his cracked glasses

“If it's been in business for that long-” Leola smiles, glancing over to the boy at her side, “-then it has to be the best.”

When the stained glass door swung open with the gentle push of Leola’s hand, the pair listened as the soft tinkling of a bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop. They step inside. The shop itself resembled that of a small library, silence as potent as the dust flying through sun beams and walls covered in red wood shelves that reached the cobweb ridden ceilings above. Leola didn’t quite understand why, but she could feel goosebumps rise upon her ivory skin, silver eyes studying everything that they could until the scene became a smudge in her mind. Power, magic, whatever you could call it. She could feel it as it radiates throughout the small space. Something in Harry’s eyes told her that he felt it as well.

“Good afternoon”

The voice, although soft, earned the children's attention due to its unfamiliarity. Turning, they focus on a man almost as tall as them as he hobbles his way out from behind one of the deep red shelves near the back of the shop. His eyes, resembling pale moon beams against an ocean’s surface, hold galaxies of information Leola and Harry could only dream of ever obtaining in their lifetime. 

“Good afternoon, sir” Leola finally responds after the pair accidently leave the older man in an impolite silence, nudging Harry to do the same using the soft jab of her elbow

“Hello, sir” 

The pair watch with awkward smiles as the ancient looking man limps over to the counter between him and the children. Throughout his journey, he takes quick glances between each child, pale colored eyes sparkling with interest when he’s finally able lean himself against the deep red wood of the countertop

“Ah, yes...I thought I’d be seeing you soon, Harry Potter” his voice is tinged with amusement, “You have your mother’s eyes.”

“You knew my parents?” Harry asks quietly, almost nervous beneath the man’s more confident gaze

“It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your  _ father _ , on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it....but it’s really  _ the wand _ that chooses the wizard.”

“Do you remember every wand you’ve ever sold?” Leola asks, innocent curiosity earning a small smile from the older man as he nods lightly in response, “That is incredible!”

“Well, I suppose it is.” Mr. Ollivander admits somewhat timidly, Leola supposes he’s not used to being complimented for this talent, “What is your name, young lady?”

“Leola Nenomae, sir” 

“Nenomae?” her last name catches his attention, grey eyebrows raising upon his forehead, “I don’t suppose you’re related to  _ Desdemona  _ Nenomae, are you?”

“She’s my grandmother” Leola lies, however the truth is not far from it. 

“Your grandmother’s wand was one of my favorites to craft.” Mr. Ollivander smiles once more, his eyes unfocused as he thinks back to the day he had shaved the woman's wand from its slab of beautiful golden wood, “13 inches, on the longer side but still fairly flexible, and made from pear. Lovely woman, that Desdemona. Tell her I said hello, would you?”

“Of course, sir” 

“Right then!” Mr. Ollivander claps his hands together suddenly, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Beckoning Leola closer to the counter, stating something about wanting her to go first based on a feeling that Harry’s turn would take longer, Mr. Ollivander gently grabs a hold of her right hand and stretches it out in front of her. She watches in awe as he waves a single freckled finger in the air, simple action able to bring forth a golden tape measure from the depths of a drawer filled with trinkets and tools Leola could spend hours trying to name. As if possessed by a spirit, the line of golden rope extends and wraps, twisting and turning across her body until enough information has been collected for the wand maker to come up with a few ideas. 

“Wait here a moment, Ms. Nenomae”

Leola and Harry watch as the older man begins his search around the narrow shop, both children staring in amazement at the methodical way Mr. Ollivander navigated through every nook and cranny. One moment, he was near the back corner, rummaging through a pile of dark colored boxes, the next, he was balancing himself upon a splintered ladder to grab at a few velvet containers near the ceiling. It was incredible really. They way he moved only solidified the fact that he was truly the best at his job, his pale eyes never wavering in confidence as he picked candidates for the girl

“Alright-” he finally sighs out once he’s finished collecting, neatly placing each wand box upon the counter in front of her, “-are you ready to begin? This process can sometimes be a bit tedious because, like I stated before, the wand is the one who is truly doing the choosing.”

Glancing to her side, she meets the benevolent gaze of her new friend. Harry offers her reassurance, a simple smile and nod enough to calm her anxious heart as he gets himself comfortable in the rotted wood chair he sat in. Although they had just met, Leola felt that she could trust him completely. Turning her eyes back onto Mr. Ollivander, the girl nods

“I’m ready”

“Then let’s begin”

And so, they set off to find her the perfect wand. One after another, Mr. Ollivander handed her beautifully crafted wands made from willow or blackwood or pear, each varying in size and ultimately failing to choose her as their owner. When she had waved a rose wood wand in the air in front of her, a blast of fiery orange light exploded in Mr. Ollivander's face. He had mumbled something about its dragon heartstring core being a bit more stubborn than most. It was safe to say that that was not her wand. When she had tapped a long hazel wood wand against the counter, a drawer opened up and ejected thousands of yellowing parchment into the shop. Harry laughed

“Oh god-” Leola is quick to place the wand back into its velvet box, her silver eyes poorly hiding the distress she feels as she continues, “-all of these wands hate me, don’t they?”

“I can assure you, Ms. Nenomae, that that is not the case” Mr. Ollivander reassures gently, his short form moving towards the very back of the shop, “We just have to try a couple more, is all”

“I’m sure whatever wand you’ll get will be fantastic” Harry adds softly, the girl glancing to her side just as he offers her a confident nod and a goofy smile

Before she is able to respond, Mr. Ollivander is suddenly back at the counter with another armful of boxes. Each rectangular case shines beneath the swinging lights above. Leola lets out a deep exhale, calming her nerves. Once she’s ready, she sets her silver gaze upon a jet black box to her right. There was something strange about that one. She couldn’t see it, but she could sure as hell  _ feel  _ it. It was hard to describe

“May I try that one?” she gently points towards the long container

“This one?” Mr. Ollivander clarifies with a small smile, his freckled hands reaching over to push the box in her direction, “Go for it.”

Flexing her hands, shaking them softly in the air, Leola finally rests her fingers against the cool lacquer of the box. It’s like marble, incredibly smooth and able to send shivers across her skin from its frigid touch. She opens it. Harry and Mr. Ollivander watch silently. She picks the wand up from its cushioned linings. 

“It’s warm…” she mumbles absentmindedly, her storm cloud colored eyes studying the wand as she moves it to rest more comfortably against her palm.

It was gorgeous. All of the wands she had seen that day were stunning, but there was something so incredibly charming about the one she held in her hand at that moment. The wood itself was a black as her hair, smoothed down until grains of pomegranate colored rings peek out from beneath the outer shells. The handle itself was made from what looked to be separate branches, twisting and molding themselves against the main stick to create intricate rose blushed designs. It was a beautifully chaotic melding of a midnight sky and an African sunset, colors and shapes complimenting each other perfectly despite their differences. 

“Alright, Ms. Nenomae-” Mr. Ollivander interrupts quietly, the girl glancing up to his face and finding a strange interest in his pale blue eyes, “-what do you say to giving that wand a little wave?”

She responds by doing just that. Taking her hand and grasping the wand firmly against her palm, she draws a circle just above the counter. Golden sparks erupt from its cherry colored tip, flying through the shop like the flames of a sparkler. 

“Bravo, Leola!” Mr. Ollivander cheers, clapping his hands together as Harry congratulates her from the side

“That was good, right?” Leola questions quietly, still somewhat unsure of herself. Mr. Ollivander smiles

“It was brilliant, Ms. Nenomae!” he reassures, taking the wand from her grasp and placing it into its respective velvet container, “I wasn’t expecting much from this candidate, but it seems it’s finally decided to break it’s streak.”

“I’m sorry, sir...streak?”

“This particular wand has been collecting dust on our shelves for about 50 years now, patiently waiting for a witch or wizard it could trust.” Mr. Ollivander explains, moon like orbs twinkling with amusement 

“What do you mean by trust?”

Mr. Ollivander takes the small box and uses his wrinkled hands to open her fingers, gently placing the cold container in her palms

“This wand was made from the strong wood of a cherry tree in Japan. Now, many have convinced themselves that wands made from cherry wood are nothing but ornamental-”

“But they’re wrong, right?” Harry chimes in, now sitting cross legged atop the creaking leather chair to the pairs side

“Precisely!” Mr. Ollivander exclaims excitedly, Leola smiling lightly at the way it seemed he never really got to talk about this kind of stuff, “Cherry wood, although very beautiful in color, possesses truly extraordinary power, especially when paired with a phoenix feather core.  _ But,  _ it lacks guidance. To use its abilities to its fullest potential, it needs an owner it can trust, a witch or wizard with exceptional self-control and strength of mind”

“And that’s me? Are you sure?”

“Remember, Ms. Nenomae-” Mr. Ollivander, lightly taps his hand upon hers, both of them able to feel the warmth of her wand seeping out from inside of its slick compartment, “-it’s the wand that chooses, not the wizard who made it or the witch who holds it.”

Nodding her head in understanding, finally able convince herself that this was all still real and happening, Leola finally bows her head in appreciation

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander”

“I’m just doing my job, Leola” he presses his index finger against the side of his head, playful grin on full display, “I’m happy to add your wand to my collection. Now! Let’s get Mr. Potter sorted out, shall we? I may need your help for this one….”


End file.
